From Ash
by Shadow Wasserson
Summary: After you have burned yourself to cinders and gone out in smoke, what is left?
1. Coals:Cold

**Disclaimer:** _Avatar: the Last Airbender_ belongs to Nickelodeon, not me.

**A/N:** You may notice some similarities between this and 'The First Airbender.' This is intentional, though the two are not in the same timeline.

This takes place in the same continuity as 'Death of an Avatar' as well as any upcoming _Korra_ works, though obviously much earlier on…

* * *

**Coals:Cold**

"She tried to kill herself again."

Aang looked up at that, momentarily surprised.

"You mean she's not getting better." It wasn't a question.

"Aang… I'm not even sure what 'better' would look like." The Fire Lord stopped walking for a minute, and turned to face the Avatar. "I'm not sure she's ever been 'better,' really. Functional, yes. Sane… maybe. But not…well. I'm not sure what we're looking for."

Aang shook his head, and turned to keep walking down the corridor. "This is your decision, not mine. If you want to keep trying, we will. If not… make her as comfortable as you can. That's all you can do."

Zuko's face grew clouded as he walked again. "I don't know if it will do anything, but your way might... help."

Aang smiled, and turned to face the Fire Lord. "I'll do the best I can."

When they reached their destination, Aang felt the slight shift in air temperature. The room was sealed as tightly as it could be, but he could tell regardless. His jaw dropped. "You're keeping her _cold?_"

"I didn't know what else to do! She might try to kill herself again! And the physicians said she's in no danger from it."

Aang's voice was quiet. "Zuko, she's not in control of herself."

"And I'm not sure she should be, Aang. You remember what she was like."

"She's not in her right mind. If she regains herself, _then_ she can be imprisoned. This is _not_ justice."

This time Zuko shook his head. "Just look at her and tell me."

The guard bowed and opened the door, and the Avatar stepped in with the Fire Lord following. Aang shivered for a moment before shielding himself from the cold with a layer of warm air. Zuko rubbed his hands together and spat a few licks of flame. The room's third occupant did neither.

Azula was tied with chains in her seat, facing away from the door. Her head was fixed in place with a strap. She did not move. She might have been asleep, for all they could tell. Or dead.

"Azula," said Zuko. "Azula. Are you awake?" There was no reply.

"Oh, good. She's being quiet." Zuko walked over and stood in front of his sister. Aang joined him.

Azula looked terrible. Her hair was not the mess it had been, but was rather clipped short, almost to her scalp. Her cheeks were gaunt and her skin was blotchy and pale. Her eyes glittered in their sunken sockets, flicking from Aang to Zuko, Aang to Zuko and back.

"Spirits," whispered Aang. "What did you do to her?"

"She's done it to herself!" said Zuko, sounding angry. "She won't eat, won't take care of herself. The physicians tell me they have to _force-feed _her. She alternates between screaming fire and utter insensibility."

Pity showed itself in the Avatar's eyes. "And she tried to kill herself?"

"Yes." Fire Lord Zuko walked over to Azula, and carefully rolled up the left sleeve of her prisoner's uniform. She did not respond.

There, on her left arm, were clear burn marks, thin and wrapping around the limb like a serpent. "The first attempt might have actually been her trying to escape. She tried to melt her chains, and they burned her." Zuko shook his head. "She would have known that would happen, if she were in her right mind. As is, it isn't clear if she was trying to hurt herself, or if it was an accident."

Zuko then walked over to his sister's other side. This time, he didn't bother rolling up the sleeve. Her right hand was wrapped in bandages. "The second attempt was more obvious. She tried to perform self-immolation. The orderlies were able to put her out and prevent too much damage, except to the hand. She probably won't be able to use it again." Zuko took a deep breath, and looked up at Aang.

"Zuko… I can't change who she is. I can't make her… different."

The Fire Lord closed his eyes and nodded.

"But I don't believe that anyone is truly beyond forgiveness. I want to help." Aang closed his eyes and breathed. "I don't know if this would really help but… if it keeps her from hurting herself… it might. And it's better than the alternative."

Aang reached out with his arms, one going to Azula's heart, the other her brow. She said something then, something indistinct, but whatever it was soon was lost in the light.

* * *

Sometimes, in frighteningly brief moments of lucidity, she knew. She saw what she was, the thing she had become, and cursed it.

_Disgusting, useless waste of space! Blot on the face of the earth! Scrounging, worthless failure! I hope you rot! I HOPE YOU ROT!_

As if the _thing_ she saw wasn't her.

As if it was _him_, instead. Or one the traitors.

Sometimes, what she saw _was_ one of them. She was happy to give them a piece of her mind. After all, they might actually be there.

_Scum! Foul perversion of the family line! If you were a limb on my body, I would cut it off!_

_You utter slime. You would be nothing without me. I hope your blood boils you alive from the inside out._

_I don't care if you beg, or plead, or touch my face with your filthy hands. You are dead to me._

Sometimes it was her Father, and his words put her own insults to shame. Sometimes, he said nothing, only looked, and sneered, and turned away, as if she was a common beggar besmirching the royal grounds.

Sometimes it was her Mother. And these times, she was filled with so much hate and pain that she couldn't even speak, only snarl fire and try to burn the image to ashes. But Mother never burned.

This time, it was something different. Something huge, and overpowering, so much so that she almost lost herself in it. It looked like the Sun, and she almost relaxed, ready to join Agni, like the Sages said.

But then it _seized_ her, and she realized that it wasn't the Sun at all.

She fought. She screamed and writhed and distorted and pressed outward with all her might. But she felt scattered, like she was a wooden puzzle that hadn't been assembled yet, or a pile of stones kicked over by a malicious child. She couldn't pull in the pieces, not without arms or legs or even a body…

It grasped her fully, insinuated itself into her every nook and cranny, teasing out her secrets. It saw her

Fear – Failure. It had always, always been failure. One as perfect as her could not be allowed to fail. It simply couldn't be done (yet it was. You see that it was. Accept that. Live with yourself as you are).

Guilt – She felt no guilt. Why should one be guilty for _winning,_ for being better than anyone_?_ (the lives of others matter. To win truly, do so with respect and grace).

Shame – I failed. I failed. I failed. (yes, you did. But you yet live. Find the will to go on.)

Grief – No. I hate you Mother. I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hate you I miss you… (you are worthy of being loved).

Lies – Lies are how one survives. Lies are a shield and a sword. Find the weak point and _strike_ (but the truth is more powerful than lies. Accept the truth about your emotions and be free).

Illusions – They betrayed me. They are not worth me. I am superior (you are but one thread of life's tapestry. All are connected, and hierarchy is an illusion).

Attachment – My power is all I have (the world is grander and greater than your power will ever be. Let it go and be at peace).

Azula, be at peace.

* * *

Aang removed his hands from Azula's body, and groaned. It took him a moment to regain his senses.

"Well?" said Zuko, his expression somewhat drawn. Aang couldn't blame him. Spiritbending was rather disturbing to witness, or so he had been told.

"I removed her bending. And I tried to fix some other things too…" Aang looked at Azula. She still looked awful, but was making small, grunting noises, and her good hand was clenching and unclenching. "I don't know if it helped or not."

"Well at least she won't be able to burn herself again. Thank you, Aang."

The Avatar smiled. "Not a problem."

They left together, closing the door behind them. They would talk to the guards about moving Azula to a normal cell, not a cold one.

They missed the tears, hot tears, flowing down the prisoner's chin and dripping onto her shackles.


	2. Whole:Hole

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, amigos. Nickelodeon's.

**A/N: **In the light of new 'Legend of Korra' information, my ideas have been completely overruled and made AU. So, I will not be publishing the 'Korra' story I've had in the works. I will publish the end to _this_ story, just to give it some conclusion, and may later put up notes about what I had planned, if there is a desire for it.

This chapter was meant to lead up into 'Legend of Korra.'

* * *

**Whole: Hole**

A hole. She could feel it. It was almost tangible, as though she could reach into her chest with her fingers and find a gap. It had ripped a hole in her, and then tried to sew up the edges with as much skill and finesse as a goatgorilla. Still, it might hold.

She breathed, and felt nothing inside her flicker. She was a war machine, gutted of its engine.

Yet, she lived.

She _lived_.

Spirits, she was cold.

Her eyes flicked around her cell, taking it in. How long had she been here? How much time had passed? She stretched out the arm that still worked properly, flexing. Horribly thin. No muscle tone to speak of. Had it been months? Years?

Assess the situation. Absorb information, and put yourself in a position of advantage.

She had to keep going. If she could no longer burn, she would smolder. She would wait. She would turn this around. And next time, she would win a far deeper victory.

* * *

The physician almost had a heart attack when he went to feed the supposedly near-comatose inpatient, and instead of screaming and writhing or lying limply like she normally did, she sat upright and said, in a scratchy voice that overlay a tone that one usually reserves for warthound dung under one's shoe: "Don't you have anything _other_ than gruel?"

When the physician didn't answer, she lay back down and said: "Leave it by the cot."

The Fire Lord was notified immediately.

* * *

"Azula?"

She said nothing. She was done talking with _that_ one.

"They say you're getting better."

Better? Oh, please. This was _better?_ She pulled the blankets more tightly around her shoulders.

"If you make a full recovery, we're going to put you on trial. You will likely be moved to the Palace Dungeons."

What a way with words her brother had. Why, she was practically improving by the second, with that kind of motivation!

There was a pause, but there was no sound of footsteps. He was still there.

"You're an aunt, now."

Oh, joy. He'd _spawned_.

"His name is Lu Ten."

How charming. Wherever did he think up a name so very original_?_

"Ty Lee is asking to see you."

Here, there was a brief flicker of the old rage, and her blood roared in her ears. But it died just as quickly, draining away into the hole. That traitor would suffer, in time. But there was no need for that now.

"I'm going to tell her she can come."

And she should care why?

There was another pause, and she heard him shifted his weight.

"I'm still looking for Mother."

That time, she turned around, looking at her brother with as much distain as she could manage. "Is there a _reason_ you're here, Zuko? Or are you just wasting my time?"

He had, she saw with some surprise, changed from the image of him she still held in her mind. His jawline had filled out, and though he'd distained growing facial hair, there was a bit of stubble on his chin. She almost raised an eyebrow at that. Shaving for firebenders takes only seconds. Why was he neglecting himself?

"Stress of being Fire Lord getting to you, brother?"

"No!" Ooh, such an angry tone! How easy it was to restart this game!

"Everything is wonderful! The world is at peace and I am _very happy._"

"I can tell."

They froze there for a second, eyes locked. Then: "All I wanted was to see for myself, if you had recovered. It seems you have. I will arrange for the trial within a week." He turned away from her. "Goodbye, Azula."

She did not return the farewell, but rather curled up into her previous position, blankets wrapped about her like a shroud.

* * *

It was just a show trial, really. The Avatar advocated for life imprisonment, as expected, and the others went along with him.

She knew there was nothing she could do to change the verdict. She would neither die nor go free from this. But the sparks could still be planted.

"Phoenix King Ozai named me Fire Lord and heir to the throne. I am the rightful ruler of this Nation." She looked at the scribes, hastily scratching down her testimony, and adjusted her heavy blankets like they were royal regalia.

"You lost that right in Agni Kai, as our laws make clear," her brother replied.

Azula smiled. "Not to you, _Zuko_. If I remember the event correctly, I defeated you, and you were aided by a third party, _defying_ those very laws."

"No." Her brother's good eye narrowed. "You broke the laws by attacking a noncombatant, thus forfeiting!"

Azula closed her eyes and kept a stable, measured tone. "I struck against one who stepped illegally into the arena, preserving your dignity by preventing a third party from aiding you dishonorably. Might I remind the assembled," she looked out into the court, to a sea of red, blue and green. So, they had invited other nations to witness this completely internal affair. Disgraceful. "Might I remind the assembled that the third party I refer to was not even a legal candidate for Agni Kai, being a _waterbender._ This illegal participant stepped into the ring, presumably to give her aid to my... accuser. _This_ was the illegal act. By accepting her help, it was he who forfeited the Agni Kai.

"You may wear the Crown of Flame now, _Fire Lord Zuko._ But you did not win it by dint of honor or skill."

Then, they passed her sentence, and she allowed herself to be taken away. She met her brother's eyes as she left, and showed him teeth.

* * *

She could not be Fire Lord. She had no bending. Non-benders had _never_ been Fire Lord, never in all recorded memory. Fire Lords past had appointed children of only distantly-related nobles as their heirs rather than allow their own, nonbending children to ascend.

This, at least, was what they said, what they whispered in the halls of nobility. Trace the origins of the rumor, however, and it came to rest rather uneasily on some traders from the southern reaches of the Earth Kingdom.

It was a capable poison, but others were more caustic.

Taxation, for one. This was before the founding of Republic City, and most societies still distrusted the Fire Nation's technological wonders. So, there was little income paying for the war reparations, except for the war booty itself. Several noble houses were ruined, and the royal coffers grew bare.

Forced emigration, for another. The Avatar said that the lands were Earth Kingdom (as _he_ remembered them being), though they had been inhabited by the Fire Nation for three generations now, and Fire people had lived there all their lives. Now, they were packed up and shipped back to a Nation they had never seen.

Fire Lord Zuko, these poisons whispered, was weak. He bent over backwards to the demands of other nations. He was just a puppet for the Avatar.

And he wasn't even legitimate. Wasn't even _honorable._

When Azula found the key in her gruel, she only wondered what had taken so long.

* * *

She no longer wanted the Fire Nation. Her homeland, her throne had been tainted. She would cleanse it, but that would come later.

Her new role was… different. Yet not unfamiliar. Her flames couldn't spread any more. But ideas… ideas could spread. Ideas could smolder and simmer for years until they had enough fuel, then _burst_ into blazing life.

The world is changing, she said. So we will change too. We will make a world with a _new_ balance, a _new_ glory. Forget the old ways. Forget the divine, the spirits have turned against us. We can make our own way. A way good for… _all_ people.

We can rise against our oppressors.

We can find something better.

We can break this endless, unchanging cycle.

We can change the world.

We can be equal.

After all, my poor downtrodden people, what is there to lose?

(one day, dear brother, you will feel what I do)


End file.
